Foyles Always Have Been Hard to Resist
by Auntieoaty
Summary: Christopher Foyle discovers yet another female who can't resist him.


Disclaimer: Own nothing/profit nothing - for entertainment only. No beta - all errors are mine, and mine alone.

Spoilers: Anything is possible

Sam insisted on inviting Foyle over for dinner the Saturday her daughter was two months old. He had put her off twice, thinking it was too much on Sam too soon, but this time she refused to take 'no' for an answer.

Foyle had used going to Hastings for a week as his last excuse. He capitulated on agreement that he and Adam fix dinner; with a promise to bring a fine catch from his time fishing in Hastings. Compromise settled, invitation accepted, and request of early arrival granted. Sam said she wanted for them to eat at 6:00pm.

Foyle arrived at 4:00pm and immediately registered the sounds of a decidedly discontented infant upon opening his car door.

He proceeded to the door, knocked, was greeted by a much harried Adam, and spied an equally haggard Sam just beyond the younger man's shoulder.

Sam looked stricken as she explained, "I don't know what's wrong. She's been like this for hours. She's been fed and has a dry nappy. I've tried bathing, and rocking, and walking her, and she just ..."

Without preamble, Foyle made his way passed Adam; gently pushing his two parcels to the man's chest. Adam clutched the two paper wrapped bundles and stepped back to give him egress.

Foyle strode, with calm determination and every ounce of authority he could muster, straight to Sam and extended ended his arms, "May I?"

Sam gave him an apologetic look but did not hesitate to comply, carefully passing the distraught infant into his waiting arms.

His tone was all business, "Thank you. If you will excuse us." It was not a question.

Adam stood with Foyle's packages hugged to his chest. He and Sam both stared, mouths agape, as they watched and listened to Foyle address their infant daughter.

His tone was soft but he had raised his volume a bit for the baby to hear him over her loud protests. "Now, see here. This is no way to be. You're only going to make yourself feel worse. I promise. You are." He had moved to sit in the nearby chair that had a suitably matching wide ottoman. He laid the baby and loose mass of blankets atop the foot rest. "I see we must teach you to tell mummy and daddy to phone for 'Uncle Christopher' when you are so distressed. This will never do, you know. You will have to practice, you tell them you need me to come see you and make things right." He swiftly stripped the blankets back, tossing the heavier one over his shoulder and then lifting the baby to his chest. He used one hand to flip and pull the lighter blanket across the ottoman so it sat in an open rectangle in front of him; one corner nearest him, one pointed away and one off to each side. Foyle returned the baby to the blanket, placing her just above center point of the blanket and carefully adjusted her clothing so nothing pulled or pinched in the creases of her arms and legs. Then he deftly tucked her little limbs to her body and held them with one hand. All the while Foyle continued to speak to her as though she were thoroughly capable of understanding his every word.

"Hold still now, we've about got this set to rights. Give an old man another minute and we'll have you settled and feeling safe. You have my word on that. Your mummy can tell you, I'm good to my word. Just another minute and we'll have it." While the one hand held her hands and knees his other hand expertly lifted and tucked the left, bottom, and then right corners of the blanket up around her arms and legs. "You see, luv, if we tuck you up nice and firm like a stuffed pastry, you'll feel just as safe and secure as you ever did before you entered into this brave new world of yours. It's simply not fair to expect you to have everything you know change, without a bit of protest, is it?" He lifted her and began to carefully slip the heavier blanket about the snugly swaddled infant, who had ceased her complaints, her godfather adjusting his volume in kind, his tone never wavering. "Well, I don't think it's fair. Not one bit. No ma'am." Placing the heavier blanket about the first would have been easier if he had kept her on the foot rest instead of holding her to his chest, but she smelled so sweet from her bath and he had wanted to linger a bit longer in the moment with her. He had every intention of commandeering the dinner preparations as soon as he relinquished the baby to her parent's. So, he forestalled that moment just a little as he wrestled the blanket around her; careful not to dislodge the snug tucks of the inner wrapping. "You just stick with me and we'll see to it your ol' mum and da learn how to make you feel safe. I know they'll get it down right away. It's not very hard. Although, I must tell you, it is much easier when you hold still 'My Little Miss Impatient'." Foyle stood as soon as he finished the outer layer of her bundling. As he stepped back to Sam with the completely contented infant, he registered the shock on their faces.

Foyle quickly explained how he knew what to do, "Rosalind and I had a very knowledgeable and patient neighbor, a mother of 6, when Andrew was born. She withstood his colicky start, and even allowed us a day or two of trial and error before taking pity on him and schooling us in a few of her hard earned solutions. Turned out he was no more colicky than this one." Foyle shifted his hold and turned the baby and then handed her back to Sam. "Seems, according to the 'dear ol' sage of motherhood', babies can feel very insecure, and if they are firmly bundled, snug but not tight, it comforts them in a familiar manner." He had no idea why he suddenly became embarrassed by his explanation, but he felt his temperature rise and was certain his cheeks were rapidly gaining color. Just then he realized he found himself uncomfortable with the thought he would have to finish what he started by referencing a personal and decidedly feminine part of Sam's body and he faltered, "Sort of, ah, well, that is to say, it acts as a replication of the safe feeling in their mother's womb." He cleared his throat a bit louder than necessary and turned to Adam to retrieve the bundle of promised fish and the smaller surprise package of cakes from Sam's favorite tea house in Hastings. "If you will excuse me." He turned from the couple and headed straight for the adjoining room. "The kitchen is off limits to the three of you for the next hour."

A warmth spread through his chest as he heard Sam and Adam say, "Thank you 'Uncle Christopher'; his momentary embarrassment fully abated, Foyle made his way through to the kitchen to see what else he could find to add to their evening meal.


End file.
